Chapter 2: The Devil Doesn't Need an Advocate

Bella was no sooner gone from the house, when Rosalie and Emmett joined Edward and Esme in the kitchen.

Rosalie looked smug.

You want the good news or the bad news?

Edward didn't bother to feed her drama. She was going to tell him everything, one way or another. His new found honesty with Bella, felt good. It had made the relationship lighter. Rosalie's antics were putting that in jeopardy.

"Rose," Emmett whispered, knowing where his wife's thoughts had gone. "Tell him."

Rosalie pouted, but her thoughts betrayed her. Edward briefly saw a death certificate pass through her head.

"Your girlfriend is right about one thing: no human is looking for her. She was declared legally dead in 2018. Her cause of death was suicide by overdose. She tried to hang herself with her bedsheets and a guard found her. She was committed to the infirmary to await transport for psychological evaluation, where she escaped her restraints, broke the lock off of a medicine cabinet, and swallowed enough oxycodone to drop a horse."

If Edward had been human, his knees would have buckled out from under his body. He'd known Bella had tried to take her own life, but the details had never been discussed. It seemed more relevant now, now that he had admitted just how much he loved her. His mind conjured up an image of Bella, her face swollen and blue, hanging limp and lifeless by a bed linen wrapped around her throat.

He tried to keep his mind from lingering there. "How did you-?"

"Yuma Center For Youth Rehabilitation keeps their records sealed, of course. Their system is out of date though. Easily unsealed."

His mind was not easily distracted.

He imagined Bella collapsing on a cold tile floor, her heartbeat stuttering in her chest, muscles convulsing as life left her limbs… He knew the overdose was a lie, but it felt real.

"So we know the overdose is untrue," Rosalie echoed his thoughts, "since she's here with us, but you should know they buried a body. I already discussed it with Carlisle and he agrees; the Volturi would have covered their tracks. In order for Bella to walk out, someone else had to take her place."

It makes sense, Edward thought.

The Volturi would have had a look-alike picked out before they ever propositioned Bella. Someone died so she could live. He imagined a vampire ripping the lock off of a medicine cabinet and a terrified girl, dark hair keeping her face from view, being force fed a lethal dose of pills. His sadness was tinged with fury. Neither Bella nor the unnamed girl deserved what had happened to them. The Volturi had selected them and altered the trajectory of their lives, for a personal vendetta.

"Was that the good news or the bad news?"

"The good, I thought." She was surprised he had to ask. "Did you want her to be on the FBI's Most Wanted?"

"No."

"The bad news is, she's lying to you."

"About what?"

"There is no birth certificate issued in the state of Arizona for Isabella Marie Campbell."

"So she wasn't born there. Do you remember the exact location of your birth?"

Rosalie continued as if he hadn't spoken. "There is a record for Bethany Campbell being admitted to the maternity ward twice, once for Arianna Grace Campbell in 1999 and again for Anthony Richard Campbell in 2006. Bella should have been somewhere in the middle. There's no record anywhere of that family having a third child, until the day the house burned down.

"The fire was big news for the area, but it didn't make national headlines nevermind international. The newspaper that carried the story was local. I can't imagine how Marcus Volturi would have gotten his hands on a copy of it."

"What are you saying?"

"Edward, I don't doubt she started that fire, but I don't think she was theirs. Look at the photos! She doesn't even look like them."

He saw the image from the newspaper in her head. Bethany Campbell and her son were both blue eyed blondes. Anthony had his father's nose, but most of his face belonged to his mother. Arianna had her father's dark hair, his serious eyes and broad jaw, with her mother's cheekbones.

Bella was not included in the photo, presumably she'd already been arrested.

Rosalie provided the memory of a mugshot, not that Bella's features had changed much. Edward cringed; her eyes looked hollow as if her soul had been scraped out. He recognized her hair was a different shade of brown, her eyes a different shape. She had neither her mother's face nor her father's. But it didn't mean anything.

"Rosalie, that does actually happen. Not everybody is born an exact replica! Or she could look like a grandparent not present in the photo…"

"The article didn't even call her a daughter, Edward. It just referred to her as, 'a minor in the household.'"

"You're wrong."

"She's lying and you are too close to see it. Face it, you can't hear her thoughts. She could be lying."

"She's not."

Edward was sure there was a reasonable explanation. Bella hadn't made up her whole life story. People who lie about their lives usually picked fantasies better than the ones they had lived. Bella had the kind of trust issues that could only come from being hurt by a loved one.

"Devil's advocate, let's say Bella's not lying," Emmett interrupted. "Is it possible she was a home birth?"

"And never in thirteen years visited a hospital? Never registered with the school system?"

"Abuse victims tend to get submitted under fake names," Esme offered. "If it's the abuser bringing them in."

"Why wouldn't they have told reporters that she was their daughter?" Rosalie pressed.

Edward thought about Bethany and Richard Campbell, distraught at the sight of their house being razed to the ground, with two children that they actually cared for depending on them. They could have omitted Bella's parentage because they were afraid of being charged with a crime…But that didn't quite sit right. If they were afraid someone would learn what they'd done, they wouldn't have let Bella leave with the police.

"Where are the parents now?" Edward asked.

"They moved. Last known address listed in New Mexico."

"Last known? You don't know if that's current?"

"No… I wasn't really looking for them." They think she's dead, what would be the point?

"How did the Volturi get a subscription to a newspaper published in Phoenix, Arizona? Why would they even want one?"

"What are you thinking?" Esme asked.

"What if they already knew she was there, before the fire started? Maybe Bella is telling what she knows to be the truth."

"You think the Volturi put Bella in their care?"

"Arianna and Anthony. The names are Italian."

Rosalie thought about it and admitted that it did make some sense. If the Volturi had become aware of a child with a dangerous ability, they may have hoped to recruit that child someday. Put the baby in a house with human loyalists and then they'd always know right where the child was and how it was progressing. They had no problem setting Bella up with a handpicked guardian in New Jersey… Why assume they'd only done it once?

"They'll be looking for her." Emmett stated the obvious.

"Then why haven't they found her?" Esme wondered aloud. They have trackers. Finding her should have been easy.

"Why can't I hear her thoughts? Or why can't Alice get a clear view of the future? Maybe their trackers can't find her because she's trying not to be found."

"She made herself invisible?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's why Jasper can influence her. His gift is more physical. Emotional response is tied to physiology. She's not invisible to him because physically, she exists."

"What happens if she stops trying to hide?" Emmett asked.

Edward didn't try to answer. He had wanted to stop running to provide Bella with the sort of life he thought she should have had, all along. If fear was what had kept her hidden, would she be easily discovered if she became too relaxed? It wasn't hard to imagine the Volturi descending on Forks. He'd already seen it in Alice's head.

"Can you look further into the family? Richard and Bethany Campbell. Find out where they came from? Where are they now? What happened to their other kids?"

Rosalie nodded. She disappeared from the kitchen leaving Emmett behind.

"Where did Bella really come from?" Emmett asked.

Edward couldn't fathom ever learning the truth. He'd traveled the world and he knew people disappeared all the time. He'd caused some of those disappearances. People who were lost were rarely rediscovered.

Bella parked outside the Chief's house and reminded herself to breathe. Edward was right, of course. This was a terrible idea. She was once again drawing unnecessary attention to herself and making herself sick in the process.

Sleet splattered across her windshield, taunting her. If she made it to the door, there'd be no quick get away. He'd likely invite her in out of the weather. His lights were off and she hoped that maybe he wasn't home, except the cruiser was parked in his driveway along with a rusted out pick-up. She considered driving away and ditching the food somewhere else, when she saw a curtain in the front window shift aside.

He knew someone was there.

Bella pulled the hood of her raincoat up over her face and got out of the car. She opened the back and pulled out the leaning tower of rubbermaid. She pinned the stack between her forearm and her chin to free up one hand to close the door.

She approached Charlie's front door, walking carefully on the slick drive. She was just ascending the front steps when the door swung open.

Charlie Swan stood in the doorway. He wasn't in uniform which dispelled a little of the tension Bella was carrying. The green flannel he was wearing was rumpled, a look Bella knew well. He had slept in his clothes and not bothered to change them. His stubble was out of control, threatening to overtake his mustache. His dark eyes squinted as he tried to see who was under the hood without having to step beyond the safety of his shelter.

"Hello," Bella said.

"Hello?"

"I'm-"

"Yeah, I know who you are."

Bella started to shuffle her weight from foot to foot, but stopped when the containers wobbled.

"Well, come on in," he said, standing aside so she could pass through.

She hesitated on the steps and then felt foolish for hesitating. It wasn't as if she were in any position to retreat. She stepped into his house.

Her eyes darted around the space. It was small; the downstairs appeared to have a dining room kitchen combo which opened toward the living room. Charlie's front door had landed Bella standing in between the two. She hadn't put much thought into what kind of house a cop might live in. Charlie's design aesthetic was very rustic; his floors were hardwood and the living room was adorned in furniture with dark earth tones. There was a woodstove off to the side, wood stacked neatly beside it. A little sliding door in the back offered a view of the backyard. Directly across from the front door was a set of stairs, leading up to more living space.

"Can I take something?"

"You can take all of it. Esme wanted you to have these."

Charlie reached out and took the stack of containers. Bella watched as he walked away and set them on his counter. She lowered the hood from her face and examined the little kitchen. The cabinets were painted bright yellow in contrast to the brown of everywhere else.

"Esme Cullen wanted you to give me food?" He asked, his tone incredulous.

"She was worried about you," Bella tried to keep the explanation as close to the truth as possible. "She knows you've been working hard to…" Find your friend's murderer? Figure out how your fishing buddy died? Why did Esme think this was a good idea? "...She was worried you weren't getting enough to eat."

"Well, thanks, I guess."

"She dated them, the leftovers, so you'd know when to throw them out."

"Huh. I'm surprised with so many teenagers in one house, she had any extra to spare."

"The Cullens don't really do leftovers."

"They don't do leftovers?"

Bella tried to think of a reason, any reason, that would sound believable. In her mind's eye, she saw Rosalie's pretty face with its bad attitude.

"It's really Rosalie," she lied, feeling satisfied as she did. "She's got a thing about food. A nervous tic."

"That's the older girl?" Charlie asked. "Hmm… Can I take your jacket?"

"Oh, I don't think I should stay," she said, feeling her stomach lurch at the thought.

"You can tell me all about Tulsa."

Tulsa? Oh, right… Bella tried to remember the details of her new biography as she took her raincoat off. Reluctantly, she handed the coat over to the Chief.

He left the kitchen to hang her raincoat on a coat rack near the woodstove and crossed back to the counter. He eyed her shrewdly, shrugged, and began loading the containers into the fridge.

She stepped in from the doorway and stepped up to the island counter that divided his first floor. Her eyes drifted back to the yellow cabinets, so out of place in a house that was otherwise designed to look like a hunting lodge.

"My ex-wife, Renee, did those," said Charlie.

She looked at him. It was hard to imagine that he'd ever been married. It was easier to envision him patrolling the streets of Forks, coming home to fall asleep in front of ESPN. She wondered why he hadn't bothered to repaint after the divorce.

"She thought it would make the place…sunnier."

"So come on," he said, leaving the kitchen and leading Bella into the living room. He sat down in a chair, gesturing to the other, inviting her to sit. "What's Oklahoma like?"

How the fuck should I know? Bella wanted to ask him. She'd never actually been.

"It's very different," she said, her mind trying to scrape together anything she knew about Oklahoma. "Rains a lot less." The landscape was flat. "The sky out there is huge. When the sunset mixes with the citylights it's incredible."

"Tulsa…you got hit with tornados a few years ago? That must have been something."

Tornado Alley, Bella thought. That wouldn't have been unusual for Oklahoma.

"We hear the sirens a lot more than we see the tornadoes…I was in the hospital when Tulsa got hit. I don't really remember the event."

"That the same hospital where you met the Cullen boy?"

"Yes," she answered quickly.

"What hospital was that?"

"Ascension St. John Medical Center."

The conversation was beginning to feel more like an interrogation. She wondered if he'd spoken to his wife this way. If she'd left him for it. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a distraction.

"They have a great immunology department."

"Can you cut the bullshit?"

Her eyes snapped away from the decor and back to his eyes.

"Huh?"

"I might appear to be a country bumpkin to you, but I'm still a cop. I didn't get to be Chief of Police for no reason, Bella, and you've got the look."

"What look?"

"The look of a runaway."

Laughter bubbled out of her, sounding on the edge of hysteria.

"I really think I should be going."

She stood up and walked over to the coat rack. She yanked her jacket nervously, and the top heavy rack toppled. She dropped her jacket to catch the falling furniture. His coats slid off the hooks onto the floor. She righted the rack and began rehanging his clothes, even as her skin itched to be free of his gaze.

Charlie made no move to stop or aid her.

"Do your parents know where you are?"

"My father works in IT, he specializes in cybersecurity. My mom, Kathy, left her job when they found out I was sick, to take care of me. They signed the forms to transfer me here on the condition that I'd be Dr. Cullen's patient, should I need an immunologist or any other medical attention…" She could hear herself speak, she was too robotic. She'd overcompensated for nerves by cutting too much emotion from her voice.

"So that's a no… I'm sure they're really worried about you."

Charlie's voice was not unkind, but he was too close to the truth. Bella found her own coat at the bottom of the pile and she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

"If you were mine, I know I'd be worried. Have you ever tried to call them?"

Charlie unknowingly, hit a raw nerve. Bella lost her temper, knowing full well her parents were not worried about her. Under the eyes of a small town cop who already knew too much, she blew her cover.

"I'm not yours!" She snapped. "My parents aren't worried about me! They terrorized me and I'm never going back."

Charlie's face reflected the truth of her statement, his face filled with sadness.

"There are laws in place to protect kids like you. If it was really that bad, we can press charges…"

"Please… Please let it go." Jasper was going to flip his shit when he found out her identity hadn't stood up to scrutiny. "I'm not theirs… and I'm not yours."

He stood up and Bella stepped backward. She heard something else tip over and cursed herself as she reflexively reached to stand the frame back up on the coffee table. She needed to be leaving, not reorganizing his house. Still her eyes landed on the photo and she was surprised by the picture.

A woman with brown hair was lounging on a blanket, surrounded by the lush green of Forks. In her hands, she held a baby in a pink onesie face down, so it was nose to nose with herself. The baby's arms were outstretched, reaching for a necklace, its legs resting softly on the woman's forearms. Both appeared to be laughing.

"That's Renee…and our baby girl, Anna."

Charlie changed the subject back to himself, feeling sorry for the way the conversation was going. He wanted to help her, not scare her away. He wasn't sure what events had led her to Forks, but it was obvious that the Cullens cared for her and she was safe now.

When he'd been younger, he had been unable to envision a finer calling than to protect and serve. He'd lived a very sheltered life in Forks and had wanted to help contribute by keeping it safe for future generations. When he moved to the city briefly for college, he'd been overwhelmed by the harsh realities that existed in high population areas. He couldn't wait to go home.

He'd graduated, not top of his class, but close enough to it to receive a handful of job offers, all of which he ignored. After school, he applied to the Forks Police Department. He was hired as a deputy. His first responsibility involved monitoring speed traps all day. It wasn't exciting and that was fine by him.

One day, the radio crackled to life; the dispatcher requested back up for a reported domestic dispute. A local man was hitting his wife with the butt of a hunting rifle in the front yard, as their children watched. Nobody knew if the gun was loaded.

When the three cruisers pulled up to the yard, Charlie recognized the man as a teacher at Fork's Elementary School. His wife was bloody on the ground while the kids clung to each other and wailed. Charlie opened the door of his car, using it as a shield. Chief Stinson did the same, as did his deputy on the passenger side. Deputy Merrick exited his patrol car with his own gun drawn.

"Jack!" Chief Stinson called, stepping out beyond the protective cover of his door. "Jack Brenner!"

Jack Brenner turned, rifle still in his hand.

Charlie reached down to his own sidearm, releasing the catch on the holster.

"Jack, can you put the gun down? You're scaring your kids."

Chief Stinson took a step closer to the confrontation.

"Don't tell me about my kids!" Jack screamed.

Charlie took the gun out of its holster, slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself. He shut the safety on his firearm off.

"Okay, Jack, okay! Put the gun down because you are scaring me!"

"It's my gun and I've got the paperwork to prove it!"

He seemed unable to see anything beyond his own narcissism.

"That's good, Jack. But we need to talk about what's going on, and that'd be a lot easier to do if you weren't waving that thing around."

"You want to talk!" Jack laughed. "I'm at work all day, taking care of other parents' spoiled brats, and this bitch can't even-"

Charlie never found out what his wife wasn't able to do. Whether it was intentional or accidental, Jack had pointed the gun directly at the Chief. Charlie had raised his gun in defense, but Deputy Merrick was faster. The gunshot echoed off the surrounding trees as the bullet connected with Jack Brenner's chest. He looked down at himself in surprise before collapsing onto the lawn.

Cardiac arrest occurred before the ambulance arrived.

Charlie had been the one to check the rifle.

It was loaded.

In school, Charlie had woken slowly to the idea that violence happened everywhere, in every town. That he'd never seen it occur in Forks, prior to Jack Brenner - except for the occasional drunken brawl - had only solidified his career choice. What could be nobler than keeping the town that he loved safe?

Looking at Jack's children, terrified on the front lawn, and his wife's ruined face, Charlie could imagine a duty finer than that of a police officer: that of a husband and father. A good cop should protect his citizens, but a good father should protect his family. Jack hadn't just betrayed his family, he'd broken them.

"She's cute. Does she visit often?" Bella asked.

"No, Anna passed," he told her.

She couldn't imagine Charlie as a father much more than she could imagine him as a husband. He seemed so comfortable on his own. She realized that he had to be. Life hadn't offered him another choice.

"I'm sorry," Bella said.

Renee had been new to town. She was the daughter of the owner of a logging company. She'd been looking for a place with that retro-small town vibe; she thought it would be good for her art. She came for the quiet town atmosphere and the dramatic landscape, but she stayed for Charlie.

She was Charlie's opposite. Where he was as solid and stubborn as a rock, she was soft and flexible as a feather. She lived for spontaneity and Charlie couldn't get enough of her. When he found out she was pregnant, it had been the happiest moment of his life. Asking her to marry him had been his first spontaneous idea.

For a while, they'd been happy.

Until they weren't.

Renee couldn't be Charlie's wife and be spontaneous. She couldn't travel the world while being tied down to a small town cop. She couldn't even convince the small town cop to choose a town with a less depressing climate.

Charlie wanted to work it out.

Then one day, Renee had had enough. She packed her stuff and then packed Anna's stuff.

"You're not taking my baby!" He'd roared at her, enraged that she thought she could walk out with his daughter and never look back.

"She needs her mother more than she needs the rain!"

Charlie stepped into Renee's space with an ugly desire to backhand her; she flinched away in fear. Her fear stopped him from raising his hand. He stepped back from her, horrified by himself.

"It's over, Charlie. It was nice while it lasted, but I want more for my life than this town. Anna should be growing up somewhere where she won't catch pneumonia from playing outside!"

"Renee, please," he begged.

"Do you really want her to grow up without her mother?"

"No, of course not…" he cried.

It was a trap and he'd walked right into it. Renee walked right out with her bags and her daughter, leaving Charlie on his knees in the nursery.

He thought of Jack Brenner that night.

Charlie had never laid hands on his wife. He'd loved that little girl like she was the sun. It hadn't been enough to love. He'd needed to do something more. To fight, to compromise, to yield… He'd needed to do something more than hope his love would be enough to hold his family together.

He'd failed as a husband.

"It was shortly after the divorce. Renee ran into a convenience store for some milk and a pack of cigarettes… She misjudged how hot cars get in Jacksonville. It was too hot to leave a baby in the car."

He thought he'd been broken when Renee left with his baby in her arms.

He thought he'd been broken when Renee sent the divorce papers in the mail.

Those didn't hold a candlestick to the absolute agony of that phone call, where Renee had told him his daughter was dead.

He'd failed as a father.

"I brought her home," he told Bella. "She's resting now in Forks Memorial Cemetery."

It was all he could do for her, in the end. The horror of a casket so small it could be carried by one man - and one man had carried it - and who was lying inside it, remained as fresh in his mind as the day they had buried it.

A knock at the door startled both of them. Before Charlie could take a step toward it, the door swung open to reveal Jacob Black. He turned his back on the door and bent down to lift his father up out of the freezing rain.

"Hey, Charlie!"

"Jacob. Nice of you to just barge in."

Jacob pulled his dad into the house and slammed the door shut. His face lit up when he saw Bella. From under his cowboy hat, Billy had the opposite reaction as he recognized her face.

"Everything alright?" He asked.

Bella couldn't bring herself to speak. If Charlie wanted to cause trouble for her, he was in a position to do it. She looked at Charlie, who looked back at her.

"Everything's fine," he reassured them. "Bella just stopped by to deliver some grub. She's on her way out."

"You're leaving?" Jacob seemed disappointed. "I think I parked behind you. I'll walk you out."

Bella crossed the room in a few short steps and tried to refrain from bolting out the door. Jacob held it open for her and followed her out. He walked her to her car, watched her climb in and, as she tried to shut out the rain, he caught the door.

"Hey, I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

"That day with the tire. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Bella looked up at him just as the wind blew the sleet into her face. She blinked it free of her eyelashes before answering.

"Trouble just sort of follows me. We're good."

He held onto the door and grinned playfully. "You still have to hold up your end of the bargain."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You were supposed to spend some time with us."

"Jacob…"

"Have you been down to the Res yet?"

"No…"

"Why not tonight? I can show you the sights. I'm meeting up with Quil, and a friend of ours, Embry. We're just going to play videogames and order a pizza…You should join us."

Bella envisioned herself sitting down to pizza and videogames with three teenage boys. She laughed. It was so normal, she almost said yes.

"I would love to…"

"But?"

"But the weather is wrong for seeing the sights… And I already have dinner plans tonight."

Jacob's face fell with disappointment.

"How about another time?" She offered.

He grinned and nodded. "What about tomorrow?"

"Don't you have school?"

He frowned. "Usually not on Sunday."

"Oh." She laughed, nervous. Just fucking up, left and right. "I was thinking today felt like a Sunday…" she lied.

"So?"

Bella considered it. This was kind of the point of not running, wasn't it? Having a life? Where did friendship fit in?

Billy Black was going to be a problem. He was not going to like her hanging out with his son. It was as terrible an idea as visiting Charlie today had been.

"My dad won't be there," he added, guessing where her thoughts had gone. "Or won't your boyfriend allow you out?"

"My boyfriend?" Bella asked, distracted.

"You're dating one of the Cullens, right? The one you rolled into town with? The one no one's ever met?"

"How the hell-?"

"I overheard Billy and Charlie," he admitted. "They gossip like old ladies. My dad's been encouraging him to rescue you."

"I don't need rescuing."

Jacob shrugged.

"Or permission."

"So why not?"

Because I'm a firestarter living with vampires. But really, that was no reason. The vampires were attending school. The head of the household had a job. Nobody knew they were vampires because they were so very public. A social life would be firmly on the list of things a normal human would do.

"Alright… where do you live?"

Jacob told her his address.

"What time?"

"Anytime after ten. My dad's headed out around nine and I'll be around all day. Just come when you feel like it."

She nodded.

"Drive safe," he said, letting go of the door.

"I would if you'd get your truck out of the way."

He laughed and climbed into the truck.

Bella started the car and watched Jacob in the rearview mirror. There was something about him that put her at ease. His smile, his laughter, his cavalier attitude; he had a sunny disposition that contrasted the climate of his home. He was too carefree to be dangerous. He'd lived a sheltered small town life, treating the streets and forests of Forks like his own personal playground. He didn't know anything of the monsters that bred, breathed, and bled in the shadows. He was someone who had always walked in the light.

He pulled out of the driveway.

Bella backed slowly out, turned the wheel, and sent the car back in the direction of home.